learned that his son wanted fifty dollars. In fact, he refused point
blank to let him have it at all.

"That boat of yours has cost enough already, and I'm not going to spend
any more on it," he said angrily, as he turned to his work.

"But I can't get the hydroplane back if I don't pay it," urged Sam.
"I've seen the captain of the Dolphin, and he refuses absolutely to let
me have her unless I pay him for his trouble in towing her in."

"I can't help that," snapped the elder Redding. "What have I got to do
with your boat? Look here!" he exclaimed, turning angrily and
producing a small memorandum book from his pocket and rapidly turning
the leaves. "Do you know how much I've given you in the last two
months?"

"N-n-no," stammered Sam, looking very much embarrassed, and shuffling
about from one foot to the other.

"Then I'll tell you, young man; it's exactly--let me see--ten, twenty,
five, three, fifteen and eight. That's just sixty-one dollars. Do you
think that money grows on gooseberry bushes? Then there'll be your
college expenses to pay. No, I can't let you have a cent."

"That means that I will lose my boat and the chance of winning the race
at the regatta!" urged Sam gloomily.

"Well, you should have had more sense than to take that fool hydroplane
out into a rough sea. I told you she wouldn't stand it. There, go on
about your own affairs. I'm far too busy to loaf about, arguing with
you."

And with this the hard-featured old boat builder--who had made his
money literally by the sweat of his brow--turned once more to his task
of figuring out the blue prints of a racing sloop.

Sam saw that it was no use to argue further with his father, and left
the shop with no very pleasant expression on his countenance.

"I'll have to see if I can't borrow it somewhere," he mused. "If only
I was on better terms with Rob Blake, I could get it from him, I guess.
His father is a banker and he must have plenty. I wonder--I wonder if
Mr. Blake himself wouldn't lend it to me. I could give him a note for
it, and in three months' time I'd be sure to be able to take it up."

With this end in view, the lad started for the Hampton Bank. It
required some courage for a youth of his disposition to make up his
mind to beard the lion in his den--or, in other words, to approach Mr.
Blake in his office. For Sam, while bold enough when his two hulking
cronies were about, had no real backbone of his own.

After making